


Five times Willy was confused by Eska and the one time he understood What the Fuck was Going On.

by Control_Room, Random_ag



Series: The W-lly Franks Twins [19]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, M/M, PLS COMMENT WE NEED THAT TO SURVIVE, a pair of gay disasters and a touchstarved aro: the movie, also this be random with the tags, also??? backstory???? control managed to put it in and i LOVE IT, eska can and WILL drown you in PDA, eska staring deep into his orbs: what the hell are you talking about, jealous ass bf shawn: leave me beloved alone ye piece a shite, pls, pls comment, we love that shit, willy wants to die. like not seriously. just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-01 18:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16289270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: He really wanted to figure out what was happening and why it seemed like his best friend was in love with him.





	Five times Willy was confused by Eska and the one time he understood What the Fuck was Going On.

Willy Franks, to say the least, was sometimes confused by his best friend.

Eska, the closest thing to a demon alive.

Eska who listened to his stories.

Eska who hissed at Shawn if he came too close  _while_ he would read stories to him.

Eska who, no matter what, stood by him.

Eska who, beyond all logic, seemed to be falling in love with him.

Or something.

 

* * *

 

1.

Willy had never witnessed Eska hugging, well, anyone. And witnessing the scene right in front of him confused him greatly.

Kim appearing to be starting to choke under the _very_ tall man's weight could have been comical if Niamh wasn't so... pissed at his lack of productivity.

"I don't give a damn about yer excuses!" she shouted, stamping her foot to seal her point. Kim opened his mouth, and failed to speak, Eska holding him tighter. "How did this ev'n happen?!"

The toy maker made the motion of patting the factotum's back with a muffled attempt at an explanation. The woman pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Eska, get off Kim, he's gotta do his fockin' job."

Eska gave her a lazy, non-threatening hiss that was suppose to mimic a child's whining. Willy sighed, going over to his gangling friend and opening his arms wide. The angular bastard eyed him, perfectly still for another second. Then he leapt onto him, much like a Ptychozoon from tree to tree. But Willy was no tree, and he staggered a moment before he accustomed himself to Eska's (concerningly light) weight. Kim gasped a breath before Niamh set him upright by his waist, him slowly turning red as her hands helped him. Willy did his best to not let his friend fall.

Jack and Johnny, chatting with Shawn about a gambling game after work or what not, laughed at the young twin.

"Watch out Shawny," Johnny teased, ruffling the Irishman's hair (which he indignantly fixed, accomplishing absoluetly nothing with the mess). "It looks to me like you've got some competition!"

"Maybe Franks has an attraction to men with funny voices, weird eyes, and messy hair," Jack mused jokingly. Shawn punched him, getting Niamh involved as she veered in to 'break up the fight', aka make the fight bigger. Jack continued on their way to the infirmary, leaning on a nearly unconscious Johnny, he himself sporting a black eye. Shawn merely had a cut he wanted to bandage.

"Ha! He probably knows what those lips under the mask feel like, too!" the lyricist continued.

"Shut up, motherfucker," Shawn muttered. But still... the seed of doubt had been planted. The thought of Willy, sweet selfless Willy, cheating on him? With  ** _Eska_**?! Impossible! But yet, he couldn't stamp down the dreadful feeling. "Just shut up!"

"I didn't say anything!" Kim protested. Shawn's head snapped up, and he realized he was already back in his workstation, hand bandaged. He stared at it.

"Shawn?" his friend called, suddenly worried by the Irishman's silence, coming over. The other stared at him. "Is... Is everythin' alright? You look kinda pale."

"I'm Irish, Kim, I'm always pale," he snorted, snapping out of it and rolling his eyes. The second toy maker didn't look convinced. "I'm fine, really. Just... go back to work."

Kim glanced over him with concern but obliged, before something else struck him.

Shawn didn't even tease him about Niamh helping him up.

Something was definitely wrong.

 

* * *

 

2.

Willy set Eska down in his secret room hidden behind vents. The factotum had not told him of his sort of "sanctuary" for a very long time, keeping it hidden from the world, like most of his secrets. Eska pouted, until Willy snatched a book from a small stand. Then his eyes lit up eagerly, and his friend swore he could almost see a pair of dog-like ears shoot up in the air with excitement. Surely, had the demon had a tail, it would have been wagging.

Willy opened to where they had last left off, Eska wrapping around him and snuggling up to him. This was normal. The soft, vibrating purring was new.

And distracting.

Willy tried putting more focus into the book, but found words blurring into blots of ink as he attempted to string them together. Eska nuzzled his head against Willy's chest.  _That_ was not only confounding but also concerning. Eska had been, as of late, showing signs of extreme affection -- attraction, perhaps?

His long arms were wrapped around him and his head was pressed to his chest, legs curled around him as he read. Accompanied by the incessant, loud, loving purring. Maybe that was just him. His impression. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

He could barely pay attention to the words, losing time to the pages, his mind swirling.

_So, does he like me?_

Finishing a sentence.

_But he knows I love Shawn..._

A new chapter.

_What do I do?_

Turning a page and flipping back because he missed one.

_Will he leave if I reject him?_

A stutter, then a corrected word.

_AaaaaAAAAAH! This is so complicated, what do I do?!_

Closing the book, looking up at the clock and blanching.

_Late! Wait, for what?_

A heartbeat.

_I'm late to Shawn._

Eska, completely clueless to his friend's inner turmoil, just barked at the sudden loss of a heat source, clamoring to hold Willy and carry him up the stairs himself. In his mind, things were going a little differently.

His thought process as he carried the slightly protesting smaller man like a kitten was more similar to 'Friend must Be Held to be protected from Predators. Safe makes happy.'

It was really too bad that Willy couldn't read minds.

Unless he was holding hands, of course. 

 

* * *

 

3. 

"Shawn, sorry I'm late!" Willy said apologetically, jumping away from Eska to Shawn. His boyfriend looked to him, then Eska, his face shifting from perplexed to suspicious. He then narrowed his eyes at Willy, his gaze razing over him. The dark man's tired smile faltered. "Shawn, are you alright lo--!"

Shawn knocked his feet out from under him, pushing him into a kiss. Willy at first was shocked, but then closed his eyes in bliss. Shawn glared at Eska from the corner of his eye.  _Try stealing what's mine now, fucker!_  

His rage only grew when the other refused to shoot him a bitter, jealous look, instead opting for his usual blank stare as he asked himself why was the other looking at him like that.

Fine. Jerk. Can't even own up to shit.

He pulled away, leaving Willy to giggle dizzily and breathlessly, blinking sleepily. He pulled him onto the couch, wrapping an arm around him and taking his hand in his own as the dark man yawned, leaning his head on Shawn's shoulder.

And then,  _fooken'_ Eska sat on Willy's other side by his legs, grabbing Willy's free hand. He held it in a thoughtful manner, internally comparing it to mashed potatoes: something very good, very small and very warm. Willy smiled at him softly before dozing off.

Shawn glared at Eska, pulling Willy closer. Eska blinked as Willy was moved from him, and scooted towards him. Shawn growled at him. Eska gurgled a hiss back.

The two glared at each other for quite different reasons; the demonic spawn upset that Shawn was moving Willy from him, the Irishman mad because he thought Eska was Willy's side.

Willy's eyes fluttered open, sensing the almost choking miasma.

Shawn and Eska jolted back, pretending they weren't trying to stare each other into oblivion.

Willy knew though, and nervously glanced between them. He swallowed roughly.

Hoo boy.

 

* * *

 

4.

Bad day.

Bad day _bad day **bad day bad goddamn day.**_

It wasn't even noon and Eska was having a bad day.

The long, long breaths he was making weren't helping at all. In fact, they were making it worse. He could feel his lungs being set ablaze by every single atom pressing against them, stabbing his chest with billions of needles each time his rib cage expanded and fell back into place.

He was stuck in a corner, curled in a ball, head in his hands, a horrible fake world lunging at him in his eyes and body trying to implode.

He growled, then whimpered as that sparked more agony.

The screeching sounds were fake, the painless feelings were fake, the taste of metal was fake, the smell of ice mixed with sulfur was fake, at least he prayed and hoped so; as otherwise, he would find himself alone in a dingy alley again, the normal-enough-to-feel-wonderful time he had spent before that moment all just a wistful dream of peace. He didn't want to be alone again, not when he finally had a home to sleep and keep his pets and a job to pay for it and food and friends. When he was younger he never had friends. He had to work, because he was cold, and the children that saw him avoided him for how violent and rambunctious and dirty and awful he looked, and for the almost satanic stare in his eyes. He wasn't bloodthirsty, just animated. He had to keep the cold away. He wasn't evil. He was a good person. A good person. A. Good. Person.

_Then why was nobody there with him?_

Was he still there? For all the stars above his head, was he? It felt like it, too much.

The were the sounds of the streets ringing in his ears, icy cold hands gripping his arms and burning like hellfire, his lip was torn and bleeding down his throat, he was leaning over an oil fire that stank like kerosene and the hail falling kept ruining it, and he was alone. Alone. A bad person, no one wanted to be near him. An awful person. A bastard, some yelled at him. Maybe he was. Maybe he was a bad perso--

A soft pressure on his shoulder, hesitant and gentle. Eska jolted, looking up, an arm already about to hit his disturber.

He wasn't in the alley, he noted, as he saw wooden planks through blurry eyes.

Not in loud darkness. Not cold and scratched. Not hurt and bleeding. Not cold and burnt. And not alone.

Willy's hand anchored him back to reality, the shorter man kneeling down to look over him worriedly. Eska lunged on him, pushing him down to sit next to him, touching the fiber of his clothes, the cells of his skin. He buried his face in soft curly hair, inhaling lavender, breathing in the goodness of the smaller. Maybe it would make him good too.

 "You okay, Eska?"

Soft. So soft. Softer than anything or anyone. He was so nice. 

Eska couldn't answer, not just yet, lost in the softness and warmth. He grabbed his hand. Willy suddenly stiffened, unable to block out the overwhelming tirade of emotions and memories.

But this particular memory felt familiar. When had he seen it?

  _Before_.

Just before.

Maybe he was around thirteen when it happened.

He didn't smell like lavender then.

"Hey, Eska," he began, wondering how the demon-like man would react. "Can I tell you a story?"

A calmer exhale.

"So. When I was a young teen, barely a teenager actually, a kid pretending to be one more like, I was angry."

Eska hummed. He knew that feeling.

"I was outside, and it was winter. It was snowin' at first. I had twenty five bucks, a swiss knife, and a coat, and I was just walking, not carin' where I was going. I was mad, but mostly at myself. I guess I was going through alcohol withdrawal or something like that. Then I saw a bar. It was outta the city, far from Jericho's, nowhere near Petunia's place, and Wally was at a school event. No one would know, and if you ask for a drink before the tender can card ya, they think you're eighteen."

Eska stayed silent, but inhaled more of Willy's smell.

"And I decided, why the hell not?! I was angry, and I had already spent a month without a drop. Lookin' back, I gotta say the fifth year was the hardest. Everyone, and I mean  _everyone_ was drinkin' like the world was endin'. 'Cept me, but... echm, anyways, I decided I was going to go inta that bar and get smashed. And I p-passed an alley..."

Eska suddenly did not like where this story was going, and he made it known by squeezing Willy's hand, tight.

"No, nothin' like that!" he laughed, touched by his friend's concern. Then he became sombre again. "I passed an alley on my way there and I heard sniffles, like someone was crying but was trying not to or didn't know they were crying. I stopped. And then I turned into that alley, ignoring that neon that I really wanted, but someone might've needed help and I wasn't going to be the dickbag to ignore them. I had my knife too, so I was pretty safe if it was fake. I-it wasn't. There was someone hiding behind a dumpster, sleeping fitfully with a paper bag over their head."

He wasn't... was he?

"They barely had any clothes, and there were cuts everywhere. It was hailing, and there were the smolders of what could've been a kerosene fire, I dunno, smelled like it at least."

The exact echo....

"Yo-  _They_ were shivering, arms shaking as they gripped each other in a terrible attempt to warm themself. Cryin' in their sleep an' shakin' with cold.... I got up, took off my coat an' put it on top of 'em, and then I went to the nearest and open store, bought the best blanket I could, and hurried back, covering them more. It was all I could do. I also left the change in the pocket of the coat, and hoped that you--  **THEY** ,  _dammit_! would find it. Their arm grabbed mine as I tucked in the blanket, cold as ice. But you warmed up after a little. I walked home after I knew that they weren't gonna die from cold and when I was pretty sure I also got sick. Wally asked where my coat was. I said I lost it. He was shocked and grumbled I'd get hypothermia. I didn't. I got the norovirus instead and was throwin' up everywhere. When I got better, I went back to that alley. No one was there, but in the ashes of the fire was the worst handwriting I've ever seen, no offence, spelling out thank you. I always hoped they'd be okay, Eska...."

He fell silent, trembling.

Eska still had that blanket.

The coat was always too small and tattered, but his birds loved it.

He used the money to buy bread, and it was delicious.

Willy, before he knew his name, before he knew him, when he was at his one of his lowest points and bitter, still cared about him.

He shoved his face into the curls, arms wrapping around him in gratitude. Willy seemed saddened, though.

"I wish I could have done more."

The impact of those words tore through him. He did all he could but wanted to do more. His arms tightened around him, nuzzling the top of his head. Willy let out a despairingly strangled noise; a half sob half laugh.

 "I wish I could have done more for you, Eska."

Eska groaned, nuzzling him again, snatching one of Willy's hands, other hand gripping the smaller's shirt. His hand moved to clutch his friend's wrist. He moaned gibberish against Willy's head, the janitor's free arm wrapping around his arm and pulling it to his chest in a half hug.

Willy was so drained, so tired, he hadn't slept over worry and hypertension, but Eska was hurting inside sometimes, and Willy was the only one who could tell, so he was the one to take care of him. He cared about him so much

Eska whimpered once more, breathing in as much lavender as he could, nuzzling him once again. Willy was hit with the sudden thought that the nuzzles were Eska's kisses when the factotum pulled his head away.

Someone was coming.

Footsteps approached, and suddenly Eska vanished, probably melted with the quiet shadows of the room. Willy was getting himself to his feet when an arm wrapped around him helping him up.

Shiny black shoes. Expensive pants. A well known and loved vest. A green bow tie. A small, so-dark-brown-it-was-black beard, Chilean lips surrounded by porcelain skin. Sky blue eyes, touched with the lightest green. Short brown hair. Adorably pointed ears.

Shawn.

"Hey," Willy breathed sheepishly, falling in love every time he saw the Irishman. It was almost funny, both of them demisexual and both so smitten. Well. Shawn was slightly irritated over his uncertainty, but that was also out of love. "Shawn, you l-look..." Willy smiled softly, shaking his head gently, "amazing as always."

Shawn pushed him to the wall, one hand curled in a fist by the dark man's head and the other on his chest.

"Darlin', Willy, you also are the most beautiful light of my life," he hummed, kissing him by his temple. Shivers broke out down Willy's back, but he couldn't stifle a smile. "But that light has elusive lately, love...."

"I haven't been trying to be," Willy murmured before the Irishman caught his lips. He sighed, completely at ease. "Mmm.... I love you."

"Really now?" Shawn asked with a little terseness, pressing into the kiss harder, not letting him reply as he lost air. One of Willy's hands tangled in his mess of hair. Shawn forced him to be prone against the wall, pulling away to scrutinize him. "I feel like you've been saying that to someone else."

"S-someone..." Willy's mind raced. He would never cheat on Shawn! And who the hell would he cheat on him with!? Two cinchona brown arms appeared on his shoulders. Oh. That's someone who could easily be interpreted as such, he caught himself thinking. Then he was yanked up and away from Shawn, held in the factotum's strong but thin arms.

Shawn looked like he wanted to punch something. Preferably a wooden mask. Willy realized if he didn't do something, the badness would kick in. "Sh-Shawn, it's not wha--"

"Are you fookin' serious!?" Shawn screamed, enraged out of his mind at the devil's handyman, his voice loud and bold. "You can't just come in when a man is tryin' to kiss his boyfriend!"

"My friend," Eska hissed, one long arm keeping the Irish man a good distance away. "Wanna hold."

"Eska..." Willy nervously muttered. Shawn eyed him, lunging again. "Shawn, listen!"

"Willy, you can't just let him do this!"

"Shawn, you need to understa--"

The words died in his throat as he felt a pressure form on the side of his face as Eska began nuzzling him in pseudo kisses. All over his face and neck.

 _Shit shit shit,_  he thought, begging for mercy, paling at Shawn's coloring face. _Stop digging me into a bigger hole!_

"Eska," he said aloud, heart pounding. "C-can I talk to Shawn?"

"Yes."

"In private!"

"No."

And then, thank heavens, Bertrum screeched for the handyman. Lacie was laughing.

Eska pouted, and left.

Shawn took his hand roughly and sat him by his work desk. A little away, Sammy and Kim were talking about flowers or some shit. Shawn leaned over the table.

"Listen up,  _sweetheart_ ," Shawn purred, a dangerous green glint in his usually bright blue irises. Willy swallowed and leaned back with wide eyes. "If ye can't  _prove_ within' twenty four hours that yer one hundred percent not smellin' the ink with Masks over there, someone here might get jagged in the break room, whether there be people there er not, in exactly a day. Ya hear, cuisle?"

 Kim and Sammy glanced at each other, not understanding the lingo at all, watching with serious concern the first and almost morbid fascination the latter as Willy turned nearly sulfurous.

"NO TALKIN' SEX AT WORK, FLYNN!" Niamh shouted from her office, still without a door, "I SWEAR, I'LL GET YER PAY DOCKED!"

 

* * *

 

5.

Willy had, miraculously, survived. Somehow, all the affection forcibly thrown at him (albeit with the best intentions, probably) by the lanky bastard and the intense rageful jealousy of his beloved had managed not to break him down to a foaming ball of stress.

That is to say, until it stopped being only different displays occurring separately and switched to all of them happening at once.

The poor janitor's brain was completely demolished, and he'd thrown him into a void of screaming. Eska was curled around him _and_ purring, one of his hands gripping the back of Willy's, nuzzling his cheek to feed him the only kind of kisses his mask allowed him to give, and by GOD was he confused the fuck out. 

For fuck's sake.

He had no clue what to do, and Shawn thought he was cheating on him.

Honestly, by the looks of it, anyone could assume that, with Eska wound around him like a python, hands on him and rubbing the slightly harsh surface of his wooden skull onto his cheek and neck, and the constant blasted  _vibrating!_  It was difficult enough assuring himself that Eska was merely a friend, but he seemed to want more out of the darker man. The perpetual touching! Even he and Shawn didn't smother themselves over each other (well, Shawn was a loose cannon, but usually knew boundaries). Eska's little sounds of contentedness made his eye twitch.

Why him?!

Why was he always the one left with terrible decisions to make?

He dug his free hand's nails into the crook of his elbow seemingly forgetting where he was, senses disappointed at not generating enough pain, as there were no new cuts to dig into and irritate. 

What the hell was wrong with him!?

His best friend was literally all up on him, leaving him with bigger headaches and worse migraines. His beloved was angry at him and threatening to make him  _prove_ his fidelity in public. He could only imagine the mortifying hell that would be, knowing the compromising situation Shawn's mind would put him in and him having no choice but to accept if he couldn't prove himself any other way; knowing that he meant semi public _sex_ at **work** , being the dastardly (and bastardly) Irishman. On top of it all, there still was his own physical and mental weakness, returning to old pains to ignore new ones.

He was so lost, and he was too afraid to bring it up.

He didn't want to have a... a romantic _or_ sexual relationship with Eska, he just wanted to be his best friend, like before the lanky man began displaying all sorts of signs of attraction to him. He was scared, if he was honest.

Despite everything, Eska really seemed not entirely human, resembling more an amalgamation of animalistic and paranormal attributes, hard to read or fully understand. And even though Willy felt almost more lost than ever, he absolutely didn't want him to leave.

He inhaled sharply, and began to talk. It came out so fast he could hardly register his own words.

" _I'm sorry Eska but c-can we talk about what you're doing!?_ "

 

* * *

 

+1.

 Eska stared at him, almost slithering off of him, towering over him. Once more Willy felt a pang of fear, but not for his friend doing something terrible, no, for the terrifying fact he might leave and not come back.

"What?" the taller handyman asked.

He gulped as he began to speak: "Okay, listen ta me for a sec. You're... You're great to be around and all, alright? But... fuck! Dear God, Eska listen, the point is this, Wally might be able to deal with two at a time but I'm not Wally! I'm just a really confused boy with no clue what's happening, and would like for whatever is going on to stop."

Judging by the blank dead stare he was getting, Eska also had no idea what he was talking about.

Willy shoved his hands in his own hair, torturing his curls to keep calm: "You have been...  _showering_ me with affection for the past five days."

"Yes."

"A metric FUCK ton of... arduous affection. This can be interpreted as, well, hnng... courting."

"And?"  
   
"So, that means, you like me?"

What kind of goddamn stupid question was that? Eska furrowed his brows: "Yes." he repeated.

His friend looked like a time bomb inching ever closer to the moment of the explosion.

"Listen, I'm in love with Shawn! You know that, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can't be in love with you at the same time! That's the point! What I'm trying to get across!"

Alright, he was probably having a fever. Eska was almost tempted to check Willy's temperature, but his brain was too tangled up in finding out just what exactly did the janitor mean to be concerned about anything else.

Internally, the janitor was screaming for him not to be upset of leave.

After two solid minutes the truck of Eska's thoughts sneered loudly before crashing into his brain with a noise so deafening he was sure had been heard from outside his head, as he finally got the message. His eyes widened as if the Holy Grail of revelations had just appeared.

"I'm not."

Willy stared at him back: "You're not, what?"

"In love."

The bomb was successfully stopped; the janitor deflated with a long sigh of a mixture of relief and confusion. Soon enough however his eyes shot back up, still puzzled: "Then why did you-?" he questioned, making aggressive hand motions, "What was all that about?"

Yes. _Definitely_ had a fever. And a bad one, too. Those were too many dumb questions at once.

"I... Love you?"

"But... BUT YOU JUST SAID YOU DON'T!"

Eska grabbed him from the shoulders and rose Willy up in the air, feeling him trembling ever so slightly. With great care, he then sat him on a table nearby.

"I.... Love you..." he formulated, slowly, "But... Not... _Am in_ love _with_ you."

Willy blinked.

"Um... I think I get it?"

Eska examined him.

"Actually I still have no clue," Willy admitted. "C-Can you explain?"

A flash of pure fear traversed his friend's eyes. He took a couple of long inhales, raising his head up to his face as if that could have helped him.

"Ok. So... Love. Is like... A hole."

"A... ho- a wha-"

"HOLD ON. It's. A hole. A big one. Ok. And there's... Small... Green dwarves... Who... Throw, people... In the hole. Every now and then. So. The people. Fall in love. And... Are. In love."

Willy just looked past him with the face of a man who regretted every single choice he'd ever made (which he mostly did).

Especially because Eska looked as if all of his capillaries were about to blow up at the same time.

"So..." was going on the factotum on the verge of an aneurysm, "Everybody... Or. Almost... Has a dwarf. Like you... And Shawn... And Kim... You. You guys... Have dwarves... And they... They kindnsn... They tttttttttthROW YOU IN THE HOLE..."

"Are you alright? Do you, do you want to stop, take a breath-?"

"I'M GETTING TO IT, jjjjjjjjust hhhhhhold on a bit..."

He curled in a ball on the floor for a little, trying to recollect his thoughts. Willy was just about to pat his head when it shot up yet again with a half yell: "BUT. I. DON'T have. A dwarf. So... I never.... Fall in love. That's. That's it. It's. It."

 Willy stared. A smile broke out.

"Eska. You could have just said you were aromantic."

"Aromantic..." Eska clearly never heard the word before, sounding it out slowly. Willy nodded. "What's that?"

"When you don't, well, feel romantic attraction," Willy explained. A long sigh escaped him: "This... It makes so much sense now. And I can tell Shawn that we are definitely not doing stuff behind his back! Great!"

Eska blinked. Why. Why would he even believe that. Why would such an idiotic idea even dare to try and form in his mind for a single second. He began thinking maybe, _just maybe_ , he was a bit too hard to read.

"No."

"You don't have to come with me up to him if you don't want," Willy assured him. Eska appeared relieved. "But... man. I thought I was done for."

"Why?"

"Shawn is... well, he's a jealous and possessive."

"So?"

Willy didn't say anything; just turned a dark Merlot.

"Ah. You have a fever." Eska decided, putting a large hand on his forehead. Willy leaned into his touch, closing his eyes slowly. The temperature was normal. Maybe it was just his skin not working properly.

"Eska, I love you too."

"Ah HAH!" Shawn jumped out from behind the door.

"Shawn! He's aro!"

"I knew it!" the Irishman shouted. "I knew tha-- what!? Aro?! You mean he?! Oh God, that... oh me Lord."

"I love you Shawn, as my Shawn, and I love Eska as Eska," Willy sighed, smiling and taking Shawn's hand, Eska nuzzling the top of his head and smelling lavender. "So, I love you both, but differently."

"But it has been twenty four hours, love," Shawn grinned. Willy blanched. "Just jokin'. Still feel cheated out on somethin', though."

"Kisses are okay," Willy smirked, winking as he slipped out of the room. "Have fun you two."

Shawn looked up at Eska. Eska stared down at him.

"So... sorry fer thinkin' ya were screwin' with Willy," the Irishman muttered, turning pink. "I really should'a just asked ye."

Eska tilted his head, and proceeded to easily pick him up with one arm. A sudden fear of being thrown across the room flashed in his mind.

Instead, the factotum just patted his head with his free hand and set him down.

"Is good," he shrugged before sliding in the vent almost too quickly for the other to register.

Shawn smiled, incredulous.

 _Love does stuff like that to you_ , he mused, _especially when it's not yours._


End file.
